


Love Hurts, Don't It?

by theimpossibleimpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Also I think I suck at subtext because I just flat-out wrote things that aren't canonically true, But characters will differentiate slightly, Coda, F/F, F/M, Fix-it fic, Just adding in some subtext and making a couple things happen that should have but didn't, Kissing, Lets makes this about Dean and Cas shall we?, Love Hurts, M/M, Okay it might've gotten a little more angsty than intended, S11 E13 Love Hurts, S11 spoilers, Season 11, The plot remains the same, Woo smashing stuff, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimpossibleimpala/pseuds/theimpossibleimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean have stumbled upon a case involving people's hearts getting ripped out... Ironically on Valentine's Day. </p><p>A fix-it fic in which I rewrite several scenes from the most recent episode (S11 E13) in a way that suggests bisexual Dean..... And Dean pining after Cas...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Hurts, Don't It?

**Author's Note:**

> You should probably watch the actual episode first otherwise you might not understand what's happening.

MELISSA HARPER waited anxiously with the babysitter as her husband went to check one last time on the baby before going out on their date. She was dressed in heels and a tight dress, her hair all curled and styled.  

"How long is he going to be?" Staci asked the older woman, a smirk slipping onto her face.

Melissa smiled, "Not very."

"You look amazing tonight..." Staci whispered to her before leaning in for a kiss.

Melissa kissed back nervously. She was supposed to tell her husband about their affair tonight.

"You're telling him, right?" Staci checked, pulling away. Her mouth was slightly stained with red lipstick.  

"It's complicated, Staci." Melissa bit out, sounding meaner than she'd intended. "We have a baby, we're married..."

Staci frowned, and the other woman reached out to cup her face, suddenly sorry about her hesitance.

"I'll tell him."

Staci nodded, and they stopped touching just as Dan Harper came back into the room.

"Ready to go, honey?" He said cheerfully, pecking his wife's lips.

"Yes, let's go."

Staci surveyed them, deciding she should say something, "I'll hold down the fort. You two have a nice time. Lookin' handsome, Dan."

He chuckled, and Melissa cast the babysitter a look as the still-married couple began to leave. The girl waved, and once they had left she settled back onto the couch in the living room. Unless the baby woke up, she'd have nothing to do all night. She flipped on the television, watching a crappy old movie, and losing herself in her thoughts. If Melissa didn't tell Dan tonight, she was going to be pissed.

A few hours passed, nothing much changing. She sipped a soda as she shut off the tv – bored. There was a knock at the back door. 

She looked behind her to the sliding glass panels that lead to the patio, and just outside stood Melissa. The dressed up women unlocked the door, coming inside and grinning. 

"I told him."

"You did?" Staci said, surprised she'd actually followed through. She got up on her knees on the couch, reaching her arms over it to pull Melissa closer. The woman came, gently swaying, and pushed a hand into the youngers' hair. 

"I did. I told him you'd stolen my heart..." She pressed a firm hand against Staci's chest, bending to whisper in her ear, " _And I told him I'd stolen yours."_

Out of nowhere, Melissa's hand plunged through Staci, ripping her heart out quite litterally. The babysitter gaped, eyes open hugely, a giant tear in her back. Blood began to pour out, and the heart gave a few final beats as Melissa pulled her hand back out. Staci slumped forward over the back of the sofa. 

She was dead. 

~

Sam can't help but stare as Dean shuffles into the room. His hair is askew, he's in loose jeans, and there's a painfully obvious red mark on Dean's neck. 

Dean opens the refrigerator, yanking out a box of leftover Chinese and sniffing it. 

"Is that a hickey?" 

He spoons a mouthful of rice into his mouth before spitting it out and shoving it back into the fridge. Dean turns groggily to Sam to answer his question.

"Mm hm..." He smiles almost a little proudly, "It's Valentine's Day."

He goes over to the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup and stirring in sugar, "And anyway, you should really see who did this to me." He grins sitting down at the table across from Sam. "I marked them up real damn good. Hickeys, bite marks, and even –"

"Whoa there," Sam put his hands up in a alarm, "I really don't wanna hear the details."

Dean beams even wider, "I'm just doing my civic duty, Sammy. Helping all the single folks. You should have  _seen_ the line of people just begging to take me home last night."

"Uh huh."

"You should get out there before people start looking for Mr. Right again, instead of Mr. Right- _Now_."

Sam huffs doubtfully, "Yeah I think I'll pass... How about you..." He spins his laptop around to face Dean, "Check this out."

Dean half-reads the article, then says, "Hope she at least got a Valentine's kiss."

Sam rolls his eyes, "Really, Dean? Some poor girl gets her heart ripped out and that's what you have to say?"

"Woah, wait, what?"

"She was found dead, heart gone, blood everywhere. Did you even read it?"

Dean shrugs. 

Sam sighs, "We should really go check this out. It could be a werewolf. I know the moon cycles not right, but we know that doesn't actually matter that much."

Dean snorts.

"What?"

"Kind of funny, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"She got her heart taken on Valentine's."

Sam shoots him glare, shaking his head. "You're terrible, you know that?" Dean just chuckles. 

"And get that mark covered up, will ya?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Dean rubs a circle on his neck fondly. 

—

When they get to the crime scene a forensics unit has already almost entirely cleaned it up. The brothers go inside the house, ducking under yellow police tape, and getting directions to the owners of the house. They meander through the place in search of the kitchen. It's a nice home; spacious, decorated, and clean – now forever contaminated with the memory of a murder. It's nice to be on a regular hunt. Sure he is anxious as hell about The Darkness, and Cas has gone a bit AWOL lately... In fact, that's still troubling Dean pretty deeply. 

When he'd found Castiel the other week riffling through papers and files, he'd been a bit taken aback. Firstly, Cas had lost his suit jacket, his sleeves rolled up, and hair messy. But also... It seemed very strange. Yeah Cas wanted Amara as dead as the next person did, but he'd never seen the angel so scrambled before. Not to mention, Cas wasn't a big fan of searching through cabinets for hours and creating unnecessary messes. 

And then there'd been the shoulder thing. 

 _The_ shoulder thing. 

Cas had put his hand on the wrong side. Normally, he covered up the now-faded handprint on Dean's left  shoulder, but that time he'd touched the right side. Dean felt ridiculous for even noticing it at all – but it had been weird. It had been  _wrong._

 _Especially,_ since Dean had just admitted to Cas the 'connection' he unwillingly felt with Amara. 

He shakes his head and resurfaces to the present. Sam is talking to Dan Harper, the father and husband in the household. His wife stands a few feet away, peering into the living room, her back to them. Dean watches her carefully.

"Did she have any crazy ex-boyfriends? Or any enemies you know of?"

"No, I mean..." Dan frowns, "I don't think so. She stayed out of trouble... Mel?" He turns to look at his wife, "Do you know?"

She shrugs without looking at them, "How would I know?"

"Was anything missing? Something stolen?" Sam queries. 

"Um..." Dan rubs his face, "No. Oh, the nanny-cam in the living room is missing. But that's it."

Sam thanks him, and the brothers share a look. They leave, getting out of earshot before Dean speaks up. 

"Melissa seem a bit off to you?"

"Yeah."

They hop in the impala, planning to go back to their motel to do a bit of research.

"You think she caught her husband with the sitter? Got a bit of revenge that didn't quite go like she planned?"

Sam considers the idea as they drive through the towns small streets.

"Maybe. Sounds possible. You don't think it's a werewolf?"

"Nah, would've been some sign of a break-in, I think. I think the wife took the camera too."

Sam nods along, "Whatever she did would have been caught on there."

"Exactly," Dean says as he pulls into a parking space at the Too Tired Motel, "I'll talk to her tonight when you go check the body. Maybe she'll be a little more talkitive without her husband there."

"Sounds like a plan."

—

Dean gets to doctor's office at about seven in the evening. He asks at the receptionists' desk if Melissa Harper is available, and within five minutes Dean is directed to a private room. He gently raps on the door before entering. 

"Mrs. Harper?"

"Yes? What is it?" She is standing with her arms crossed on the opposite side of the room, wearing classic blue scrubs, with clean white shoes, her hair back in a braid. "I thought my husband answered all your questions."

Dean looks her up and down, and she raises her chin a little in defiance. 

"He did. Or at least, he answered all the questions we had for  _him."_ Dean leans back against the wall, attempting to be casual. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I pardon of they're indelicate, but I need you to answer honestly..."

"Okay."

"Did you steal the nanny-cam?"

Her mouth drops open in shock.

"No! Of course not! Why would you say –"

"Misses, with all do respect, this is a federal investigation and if it's found that you are lying to me –"

"Are you threatening me?"

"Trust me, if I'm threatening you you'll know about it."

They are quiet as they have a stare off. It takes only 30 seconds for her to snap. 

"Fine. Yes! I stole it. But not because I killed her!" Melissa shouts, tears spilling from her eyes. 

Dean isn't sure what to say as she continues to cry, "I didn't kill her! I swear. I was... We were... We were having an affair! And we kissed in front of it! And –"

Dean interrupts, completely losing track of what he thought was going on. "Wait.  _You_ were having an affair with her? _You_  were?"

Melissa sniffs, and glares at him, "Is there a problem?"

"You mean besides you cheating on your husband?" Dean runs a hand through his hair, "No. But just –" He chuckles softly, "Wow."

"I'm glad you find what I had with her so  _amusing_ agent, but if it's okay with you I'd like to leave now." Mrs. Harper requests coldly. 

"Wait, where's the camera? There's probably footage of the murder on it."

"Oh. Um," She fumbles with her pocket before pulling out a small cube camera, "Here. I haven't looked at it yet. Just don't –"

"Show your husband?"

She nods at Dean's assumption.

"We won't."

"Thank you." She slips past him then, and he's left alone. 

—

THE NEXT DAY Sam receives a call saying Melissa Harper has been killed; her heart ripped out.

—

Dan Harper digs the shoebox out of the cupboard under the sink desperately. Holding a phone to his ear, talking to someone. 

"I did it exactly like you said! But something went wrong... My wife is dead! I didn't want her dead! I wanted the babysitter gone... Yes. Yes, I guess but –"

The man opens the box with one hand, dumping the contents onto the counter. He turns on the garbage disposal in the kitchen sink, running some water. He holds a bundle of herbs in his fingers, and drops them down. They grind up loudly. He shoves in some more grasses, a few flowers, and lastly the skull of some small animal. That part is the worst, he's terrified it'll break the sink and all the evidence he just destroyed will be spit back up. He's shaking as he shouts into the phone. 

"Now the FBI are here! They're asking questions... And people are dead! Why do you not care?!" He waits for an answer but it doesn't come. Then the line goes dead. 

"Dammit," He mutters, slapping a hand on the counter. "Dammit!"

The doorbell rings, making him jump. He thinks for a moment about not answering the door, but he suspects that could just get him into more trouble. 

Reluctantly, Dan ends up letting in the two FBI agents he's already spoken too. Within seconds they're demanding he explain himself, they're talking about some monster and a curse... And Mr. Harper rushes to explain everything. It was all a mistake, he just wanted Staci to leave, and he wanted his wife to still love him. The shorter agent grills him hard about where he got the spell, and soon he's spelling out the address of his barber. 

The taller man, is much kinder and he apologises for everything Dan's lost and promises that they're going to try and fix it before anyone else gets hurt. 

It's not much later when they discover how the curse is passed; through kissing. And then Dan is told he's next. It's sort of terrifying to know a double of your wife could burst in to murder you at any second. 

—

It's nighttime again before anything happens. 

Dean hears the creaking but doesn't think much of it. He's sipping a beer he stole from the refrigerator and is frowning at the pistol he just reloaded in his hand. 

Amara is on his mind. Which isn't surprising, she's on his mind a lot these days. 

"Dean!" Sam yells, surprising the older Winchester.

He spins around just in time to see the doppelgänger of Melissa punch an arm through the glass doors at the back of the house, and watch them shatter to a thousand pieces. He cocks his gun, not wasting any time as he loses a half dozen bullets into her chest. Blood spurts, but by no means does it slow her. Her eyes are glazed and zombie like, staring wildly at her husband who seems horrified. 

Sam dashes for the front door, so they can make a run for it in the impala. 

Mel suddenly lunges forward, swinging her arm like it's a battering ram, ready to shoot through Dans chest and take his heart.

She is practically to him, and time freezes as Dean makes a split-second decision. He stares at Dan for what feels an eternity, the demons in his mind fighting a battle. 

_I can save him right now. I can. It'll take just a second. It doesn't even have to be that long, or that hard. Just real quick! I can do this..._

_What if he gets the wrong idea? What if it doesn't work? What if I flip out? Maybe I should just –_

Dean chooses to shut his brain the hell up for a damn minute, and stretches a hand over to Dan to yank him two feet closer. The guy is so freaked out already he doesn't react. Dean squeezes his eyes shut, and scoops the man's jaw closer. 

Dean kisses him. 

It doesn't feel like anything other than lips on lips. Dan is certainly not kissing him back, not that it matters. He counts, just to make sure. 

_1... Okay, this isn't too bad._

_2..._

_I kind of wish he'd kiss back just a little so I didn't seem like a total perv. If this doesn't work this is going to suck ass. Sam'll give me shit. Well..._

_3!_

Dean steps back, and points his gun at Melissa again. Sam calls to him and Dan, and the other two sprint out the front door. Dean stands there as the woman starts screaming, a bubbly black smoke engulfing her. He realises then that he really doesn't want to see who his deepest darkest desire is, and he leaps out of the house slamming  the door shut behind him. 

He hops in the drivers seat as Dan yells, urging him on. Sam is quiet, searching for the scrap of paper with the barbers address on it. He would have just asked Dan to repeat it, except he's a little shaken up at the moment. The sudden  spinning rubber on the pavement squeals hard, making Dean flinch, but he rockets out of the houses driveway and zips down the street. They shoot through the neighbourhood, miraculously not seeing a single car on their way to the shop. 

They park a block away so they'll have time to get their stuff together. 

"You stay here," Dean says to Dan while handing him a knife, "Stab anything you have to. We'll take care of this."

He accepts the dagger gingerly, and asks very softly, "Why did you kiss me?"

There's a beat of silence as Sam listens intently, and the wheels in Dean's brain spin. He'd already started to block that memory out. 

"To save you. Now that thing is chasing me, as long as I don't die, you're covered. Trust me, it's for the best."

Mr. Harper nods, and the Winchesters get out of the car. Dean makes sure the doors are locked, then goes around to the trunk. He props it open with a shotgun, and the two men rummage around pulling together more ammo and some extra knives to hide on their person in case they're captured. Sam is ignoring Dean. 

"Well? Let's hear it." The elder snaps, slamming the trunk shut when they're ready.

Sam sighs, "You didn't need to do that. Now it's just coming after you, and..."

"You think it was better we just let  _him_ be cursed? Let him get killed? It's better it's one of us. You know that."

"Yeah, it's just –"

"Just what?"

Sam looks away down the road. Porch lights glow, a few neon signs from small taverns are still lit. It's cold out, but he can barely feel it with the adrenaline from running still pumping through him. He knows Dean is keeping something from him, and he hasn't been able to ask what. He's afraid to know, if Sam's being completely honest.

"Nothing."

Dean clears his throat, trying to lighten the mood, "Well, the silver lining about being cursed, I finally get some face time with Daisy Duke... my deepest, darkest desire." 

Sam faces him, a smile hinting at his face, "Seriously?"

"Ever since I was 7." He admits with minimal sarcasm betraying him. 

"So... Bach, not Simpson?"

Dean scoffs, "Eh. Guess I wouldn't say no to either."

The pair stops joking around, and jogs as inconspicuously as possible to the barber shop. It's shades are drawn, dark inside. Sam leans down on one knee and picks the lock in a rush.

"You know, I think I know somebody who could use a trim."

"What?" Sam says in annoyance as he pushes the door open. 

"He's tall, big, hairy. 'Bout your height actually, Sammy."

"Really? Right now, man?"

"C'mon now. Pair a scissors – give me a few minutes and –"

"Eat me Dean." Sam responds, switching on his flashlight and casting the beam throughout the shop. 

It's light reveals chairs, numerous mirrors, ugly tile flooring, and nothing much else. Dean steps in, going silent and serious. He nods at a hallway, which he walks over to, putting his back to the wall and carefully working his way down it. Sam is right behind him, and they split up. Sam heads down into the basement, and Dean takes the office-lounge room off to the right of the hall. 

He opens all the desk drawers, pulling out papers, gum packs, broken pencils, and even a huge bundle of broken combs. There's nothing of any interest. He goes to the small couch next, lifting up pillows and the heavy-duty cushions. Nothing. It's a shockingly large room for how small the place looks on the outside. It's more of a man-cave than an office. A pool table sits underneath a special light, which Dean flicks on. 

"Play a round, Dean?"

The familiarity of the voice sends a shiver down his spine. He spins around, undoing the saftey on his pistol and pointing it at Amara. 

Only, it's not her. 

Not the  _real_ her, at least. 

It doesn't matter though, he's still terrified and determined and... A little confused. 

"You're thinking..." She states, "What about? It's just me... You can tell me anything." Not-Amara glides past the desk with dizzying gracefulness. She's wearing her long, cleavage showing dress, and black flats. He's struck by how human of a shoe choice that it for the sister of God. 

"You're not her."

She challenges an eyebrow at him, "So? If you love  _The Darkness,_ you won't be able to stop me. To you, she is everything..." She whispers, advancing. Dean holds his ground, the only thing seperating them is the couch. 

"She isn't anything to me. Nothing at all besides a damn monster I have to gank, I don't desire her – you shape-shifting bitch – you got it wrong this time."

She laughs at him. 

"You're wasting your time Dean, all this talk is for nothing. Your brother..."

Dean's heart skips a beat. Amara notices this and smirks, continuing.

"Your brother is a little tied up right now. My master caught him. It's just you and me."

She moves then –  _fast._

Dean's barely able to side-roll across the billiards table before her fist slams down in the middle of it. Woods chips and scraps of green fabric burst up and scatter as she snarls at him. He takes a chance and fires a shot right in her forehead. Her body lurches backwards, but she doesn't topple over. When she looks back at him, her eyes are black like a demons. 

"You weren't lying, you human scum," She hisses, sounding  _very_ different than before, "You don't love her... But then who's in your heart, Dean?"

He fires again, flinching. But just before the bullet can strike her, she screams, collapsing back into the watery smoke she was earlier. The floating form twists and crackles with electricity. He takes the opportunity to reload his gun and yell as loudly as possible at Sam. 

"SAMMY! KILL THAT DAMN WITCH ALREADY!"

He doesn't have any more time, a new person is standing in front of him. Dean's reaction is delayed by him staring, mouth slightly open. 

"... Cas?"

"Hello, Dean." And the angel smiles. This simple action puts the fear of God into the hunter. It splits Cas's face into a menacing snarl, even though it's Castiel's. It shouldn't be possible. 

"Oh my god..." 

"Not quite, but I definitely tried."

Dean can't do it. He can't shoot. He  _knows with every once of him that's it's not Cas,_ but he still can't fire a shot off. He walks tentatively backwards until he bumps into a bar stool, not able to tear his gaze from not-Cas. A good thing too, because he otherwise may have missed it when the doppelgänger swung a fist at him. Dean reaches down and picks up the stool, Cas smashes through it in an instant, and Dean throws the broken remains at him and sprints for the exit. He barely makes it three feet before Cas roars again, catches up, and slams him against the wall. His trenchcoat a flutters in the wind he seems to be creating all on his own, his hair blown around and his tie backwards.

Cas's forearm is pushing against Dean's throat, choking him. He tries to fight back, or reach for the knife tucked into his pants, but Cas snatches both his wrists and pins them above his head. 

"Why me, Dean? Huh?" Cas chuckles, "Why me? When I looked into your heart, I saw your love covered in shame... Naturally, I thought that love was Amara..." He shoves harder at the hunter's neck. Dean coughs, eyes watering. "But it wasn't. Me? Me, Dean? It's laughable."

"No..." Dean chokes, "No! Not you!"

"Mm hm..." Not-Cas mumbles, unconvinced. He releases Dean's throat, but not his wrists. The Winchester coughs more, sucking in huge breaths. Cas brings his shoulder back, suddenly smashing his hand through the wall, centimetres from Dean's side. 

"If you're gonna do it,  ~~~~ _just frickin' do it!"_

"Nah..." Drawls the angel playfully. He's acting like he did when he was possessed by the Leviathans, "I think I'm having too much fun."

"What do you want!?" Dean demands, again trying to tear away from the other's iron grip. He thinks about kicking out, but he doubts that would do any good, Cas would just dance out of the way. 

He keeps searching the false-angels face for some sign. Like he expects the real Castiel to buried in there somewhere. He's glad no one else is here to witness this. 

"I want to hear you say it." 

"Say what?"

Cas's gaze goes dark, the entire  _room_ even gets darker. He lets go of the hunter entirely, dropping his arms to his sides. He loses the manic smile, his mouth closing, his features softening. He is no longer a raging monster, but a delicate  _person_ whose given everything they've got, and is done. He is Cas now. Or at least a version that is far more believable than Dean thought could ever be possible. It's so shockingly real that he can't even start to puzzle-out an escape route. The man's impersonation is so spot-on, Dean no longer wants to run away. 

"I want to hear you say that you love me."

Cas's voice is crippled, sorrowful, and desperate. 

Dean can barely speak as he says, "I can't."

"You can't? Or you won't?" Cas doesn't even seem like he can put in the effort to care about the answer – like all he wants is for the pain, the struggle, to be over. 

Dean can't answer, so he shakes his head. 

"Everything that I have done –" Cas rasps, frowning, "– I have done for you."

Dean's heart breaks a little. His shoulders fall, his jaw loosens.

"Cas..."

"Without you Dean... I have nothing."

"You're not –" Only Dean can't say it. Because he is suddenly not sure. What if it  _is_ Cas? He knows it's silly, but looking at the angel right now he thinks it could be true. 

"I need you."

Dean fights back his response, but it bursts out anyway, "I need you too, man."

And then, it's over. Castiel beams with all his teeth, and his eyes snap to black. Dean forgets to be scared. He forgets to fight. He forgets everything. He feels so foolish and lies to – he can't believe he fell for the trap. He can't believe that somehow he's managed to fall in love with anybody.

"Silly boy, you've let your heart rule your head." Not-Castiel chastises, bracing himself to attack Dean.

Dean slumps back onto the wall.

"I will  _take your heart since you are too much of a coward to give it to me yourself."_

There's the sound of three gun shots – Castiel throws himself at Dean, fist first – and then he stops as Dean winces away.

Castiel explodes into lights and colours, blinding the hunter who covers their eyes. Sparks crackle and burst with urgency, blasting out the windows and disrupting everything in the room. Papers, chairs, and various tchotchkes are flying everywhere, slamming into the wall around Dean. He shields his head and at last gathers his wits. He dashes for the doorway, breathing heavily and praying to who-knows-who that he might not have to suffer nightmares about what happened tonight. Or ever. This was a nightmare in itself, he doesn't need it following him to bed every day. 

He stumbles down the hallway, a high-pitched sound threatening to make the whole building burst into flames. He gets outside into the open air, and he feels free. Almost safe. He hears Sam shout, and sees both his brother and Dan Harper start sprinting out of the barbershop right on his tail. They all get about halfway to the impala before the shop, does in fact, blow up.

None of them care about it as they pile into the car. Dan is barely holding it together, Sam seems slightly battered, but alright, and Dean feels like the world is crashing down on him.

Whatever it is between him and Amara – the  _connection,_ so to speak – is not a choice. It is something he has no option in. He is pulled to her by some unknown force that he did not consent too. He wants it to go away more than anything. He can't stand to feel like he owes her, belongs to her, or is part of her in away. When he is near The Darkness, something happens that he can't explain. But to call it love, or desire... Well it's not that. Not at all. 

But this... Whatever this is between him and Cas – this isn't a choice either. It's just there. Seems to have always been. And even after seven years he still doesn't know what to do with it. Maybe that creature was right. 

The trio sits silently in the car watching the shop burn. The flames turn abnormal colours as they lick the sides of building, melting off the blue paint job. The barber pole falls to the ground, on fire, and soon there are fire truck sirens in the distance. 

Dan Harper, breaks the silence.

"So that's it then?"

"The curse is over." Sam replies from the passenger seat. 

Dan sighs, and Dean's spies on him in the rear view mirror. The husband puts his face in his hands and groans like he's exhausted. Dan Hatper puts two fingers on each temple, now gazing absently out the front of the car. He says something then, so quietly neither brother is sure if they were supposed to hear it or not.

"Love hurts, don't it?"

And Dean can't help but agree. 

 

~

**Author's Note:**

> My first fix-it fic. I hope it actually fixed things and didn't make them worse ;)
> 
> Feel free to share your thoughts on S11 so far in the comments.


End file.
